


Smoke And Mirrors

by TheAwkwardEnthusiast



Series: Spare Parts [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Character Study, Human and Autobot Dynamics, Other, Platonic Relationships, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-12-07 14:51:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18236396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAwkwardEnthusiast/pseuds/TheAwkwardEnthusiast
Summary: Raoul wasn't looking to get involved in an intergalactic civil war and Tracks knew better than to endear himself with someone whose lifespan equated to mere seconds of his own. But circumstances brought them into each other's lives and the fleeting friendship that they share is a gift all on its own.





	Smoke And Mirrors

Autobots are not insusceptible to the formation of friendships outside of their own species; in fact, most bots find that their best recollections involved more alien species than their fellow Cybertronians, unusual pairings making for the most intriguing of stories during high grade induced table talks and friendly reunions. Cybertronians have been interacting with other alien species for millennia, trading ports and scientific assemblies spurring relationships across the cosmos and solidifying their social mobility among the universe. They get along well with fellow robotic species, finding common ground with the few races that understand what it's like to be walking juxtapositions; living souls inside machine bodies. Organics were less willing to mingle with Cybertronians but that didn't mean they completely respected their pariah status. Especially not when it came to trading medical and biological information. The Nebulons, for example, had been on the brink of extinction millennia ago and the work of an unnamed Cybertronian granted them technology that revolutionized their species and made them the first to ever achieve perfect symbiosis between organic and machine subparts.

They thanked them by declaring war a couple centuries later.

So it was no one's surprise that the Autobots approached humans with extreme precaution. Biding their time until the Decepticons had attacked an oil rig and forced them to interact; luckily for everyone, Spike and Sparkplug weren't complete afts and Optimus was sensible enough to, as the humans say, extend an olive branch. From then on out, interactions were basically a free for all and the complexity of their human/bot dynamics grew to encompass everything, from friendships to full blown romances.

On Earth, making acquaintances with the humans essentially became a rite of passage. Friendly mechs with squishy backseat drivers tended to have more liberty to explore the organic planet and each one of them genuinely enjoyed the other’s company. Tracks was not the first Autobot to befriend a human but the boastful mech liked to imagine that Raoul had the record for the most badass escapades and daring feats of adventure. The dark haired man, (and yes, he was a man; screw the whole "21 is the official adult age" bullshit) was outspoken and street smart, as skilled with his hands as he was with the silver tongue that could charm even the most stoic of authorities.

Tracks admired Raoul for his tenacity but he held the human in higher esteem for one simple reason: he was unafraid to face conflict. Now others would argue that one didn’t get much more daring than Spike, who traveled to different corners of the world every other day and faced down metal titans without batting an eye. But Spike, for all his courage and bravery, was seriously lacking in the personality department.

He sought out Bumblebee and the other Autobots whenever he could, forsaking his schooling and social life, claiming that his home was with them. Most bots found it endearing. Tracks found it mildly juvenile.

Now, Raoul was different. The 19 year old lived with his ailing mother in a small two bedroom apartment that had a broken heater and a leak that sprung every time it rained. It smelled of lilacs and _ropa vieja_ , a cultural delicacy the eccentric man had learned to cook and adopted as a staple of his diet. Tracks could smell the spicy scent as it clung to Raoul’s leather jacket, obscured by the heavy cologne and the cloying aroma of cheap cigarettes.

He worked two jobs, one as a mechanic in a small rundown auto shop and another as a street dancer in the downtown square. The former helped him pay for his mother’s medical bills and the second, earning meager savings, allowed him precious moments of reprieve from the turmoil of his life. He’d traded in his crowbar and carjacking tools for good ever since they’d run into each other. Unlike most of their human companions, Raoul wasn’t too keen on getting wrapped up in an intergalactic war.

He was always surrounded by friends when he danced, some asking for demonstrations while others asked where his giant metal friends were. Privacy really wasn’t something you found so easy when you run down buildings with a mech the size of a building trailing behind you, after all. Raoul smiled at the former and dutifully ignored the latter. Then he’d slither into an alley, smiling softly with a weathered cigarette hanging loosely from his lips.

Tracks met with him every now and then, just to see how he was doing. Raoul would smile and shrug, teeth gnawing slightly on the end of the rolled up paper while his tongue lazily twirled around the edge of it.

“ _Mama’s_ doing better. My _Papa’s_ nowhere to be seen and I’ve earned enough to pay this month’s rent. You?”

Tracks would tell him and Raoul listened, nodding and attentive. He laughed sparsely and muttered bemusedly between pauses. When Tracks spoke of days that yielded nothing but misery, the human wouldn’t smile and tell him things would get better. He was old enough to know that such promises were pure folly, in both life and war. So all he said was, “That sucks, my man. But hey, least you’re still kicking, right?”

 _Yes,_ Tracks thinks. _I am._

Pleasantries exchanged, they make their ways back to their routines. But Tracks always lingers, glancing back to see if the young man is casting a longing look over his shoulder like Astoria or sporting a disappointed facade like Spike when Bumblebee drops him off back home. But Raoul never looks back and Tracks finds comfort in that.

Tracks is a giant metal titan, full of circuits and wires and neural networks that any human would covet. His glossy finish brings in automobile enthusiasts like scraplets to a scrapheap. His status as a warrior makes female humans swoon and children’s eyes light up with greedy excitement. Military personnel see his weaponry and the sleek design of his automated systems and they drool.

But Raoul looks at him and sees past all of that. He doesn’t see the Autobot, the warrior, the giant space alien whose very existence is a paradox to all known sciences and philosophy. Those are just smoke and mirrors, reflections altered to befit the attention of intended audiences.

Raoul sees Tracks, the mech who hides paranoia behind boastful words and physical pride. The gentle soul who dreams of poetry, the romantic who dreams of a nonexistence peace.

**Author's Note:**

> Raoul has always been my favorite G1 companion for some reason; I like to imagine it's because he's the only human that wasn't actively seeking out to hang out with the bots. Unlike Carly who literally stalked her way into their lives or Spike who somehow has no life outside of Autobot HQ, Raoul seems to be the only human that's not too crazy about showing off his friendship with Tracks. He treats Tracks as he would any good friend, meeting him occasionally to catch up and then heading off on his own way without thinking too much about it.


End file.
